Velvet Darkness They Fear
Album - 25 settembre 1996 - Debaser id 20164

** Instrumental Intro **

"Gaunt and gnarl'd
Reflecteth the silver shield this welkin aghast,
And with haste translateth to gild'd black post and fast."
"Anon - anon, say I! - the lid aside,
Crawl without this velvet-clad coffin blest,
The bottom sand of the hourglass is at tide,
"Sensing this pine is as deep as the deepest chasm,
'Tis and hath e'er been merry blood to pest -
Hither! - cede and fulfil my phantasm!
To be adust for time longer can I not bide,
Cherish me and sonorously do me laud -
Hence the heart hale out thro' the chest!
For dread! - thine eyes will behold a guise faugh'd."
Misery thee?! - Rather misery me! -
For in Time's durance am I naught but wee."
"This tender and loving pest I to thee bequeath,
Thence switly wilt thou errant to 'Neath."
"And to me should'st thou be the humblemost knave,
Lest fear! - spit I on thy cist and grave! -
Lest leer I at thee and do bewitch,
And the tharms fluttering claw'd and eldritch."
"To conquer thee and thy blood for glore
Art thou my afeard and reluctant whore;
Irksomely coy, save wiliéd by alarum,
Bear this torture and maim with decorum.
"If e'er always was I this blissful and blithe
Would I resign to but its wee tithe."
"Purvey my ache and quench my profoundest urge,
And to thee will I sing the lull-dull dirge;
Deliver thy blood like the rill filleth the ghyll."
"Burrow to the trothplight with Night and Devil! -
Bid Him to league with me - forsooth, merry to 'come 'twill."
"Whilom wast thou vestal, yet now flit to thy tryst,
Elsewise will I coerce thine consonantry to turn whist;
Grasp I the snath and cut off thine breath,
"Death - oh! fair and 'guiling copesmate Death,
So that thou canst in darkness and inferno vester,
Be not a malais'd beggar; claim this bloody jester!"
For do I solely what He to me liefly saith."

"Be my kin free fro carnal sin,
Bride the thoughts of Master."

"There hath past away a glore fro the Earth;
A glore that in the hearts and minds of men,
Men demented - blindfolded by light,
Hourisheth as weed in their well-groom'd garihs."

"Might I too was blindfolded ere,
Tho' years have master'd me
A masque of this to fashion:
Seer blest, thou best philosopher!"

"Tis the Divine Comedy -
The fool and the mocking court:
Fool, kneel now, and ring thy bells!:
We hold the Earth to heaven away."

"The quality of mercy and absolution,
Whence cometh such qualities?
Build thyself a mirror in which
Solely wanton images of thy desire appear!"

"Tis is Divine Tragedy -
The fool and the rocking court:
Fool, kneel now, and ring thy bells!:
Make us guffaw at thy futile follies,
Yet for our blunders - Oh, in shame;
Earth beareth no balm for mistakes -
We hold the Earth to Hell away."

- That cross you wear around your neck;
is it only a decoration, or are you a true Christian believer?
- Yes, I believe - truly
- Then I want you to remove it at once!
And never to wear it within this castle again!
Do you know how a falcon is trained my dear?
Her eyes are sown shut. Blinded temporarily
she suffers the whims of her God patiently,
until her will is submerged and she learns to serve -
as your God taught and blinded you with crosses.
- You had me take off my cross because it offended...
- It offended no-one. No - it simply appears
to me to be discourteous to... to wear
the symbol of a deity long dead.
My ancestors tried to find it. And to open
the door that separates us from our Creator.
- But you need no doors to find God. If you believe...
- Believe?! If you believe you are gullible.
Can you look around this world and believe
in the goodness of a god who rules it?
Famine, Pestilence, War, Disease and Death!
They rule this world.
- There is also love and life and hope.
- Very little hope I assure you. No.
If a god of love and life ever did exist...
he is long since dead.
Someone... something rules in his place.

"Believe? In a deity long dead? -
I would rather be a pagan suckled in creeds outworn;
With faartytales fill'd up in head:
Thoughts of the Book stillborn."

"Shadow of annoyance -
Ne'er come hither
...And then He falleth,
He falleth like Lucifer
Ne'er to ascend again..."

An artist is what is call'd the self that the brush holdeth -
Though hath it then caringly caress'd the Canvas of to-morrow?,
O Canvas! for thee I hold my tool - still! passionlessly it quivereth,
Minding not that my hands are more than apt;
My Muse,

Where is hidden
The blue-huèd arch 'neath the High Heaven's rich emblazonry,
The flowery meadow, embrac'd by the horizon - snowflakèd and aèry mountains,
In which the barebreastèd maidens dance to the lay o' midsummer,
Aloft the distant lazy flapping of the doves in vainglore.

O Canvas!, wherefore canst thou these images not allow? -
I deem a projection of my Theatre they should be! -
Then, I challenge thee the wisdom of naysaying the yearns o' mine -
What is this unforseen that not enjoineth light shades to be skillfully paintèd?

The raven sky prey'd on by the snowfill'd, blustery clouds,
Unadornèd the meadow - hunger driveth the wolf out of the wood,
The maidens chainèd and whippèd within a dreary dungeon -
And, lo! 'twixt the wizen roses a mossy grave:
�The Devil is as Black as he Painteth' -
O Canvas! wherefore?...

-- oh - my dearest; the sweet music in the ear -
-- albeit, daresay I, the lullaby of an everso dark sleep.

my precious,
likest thou what emergeth yon the distant?
the throbbing and breathing of life's machinery!

-- wanion its oh so damndest soul!
-- with the devil-instrument it we shall reap,
-- after the banquet obscur'd in our thole,
-- its blood so lovingly across our faces smear

-- lord of carnage,

lady of carnage,

-- one funeral maketh many,

swarm god's acres;

-- two indeed more:
-- blest treat of delight -

give praise for the blood it bled,
grant a rose for the dead! -- grant a rose for the dead!

enraptur'd by the timeless beauty of the
shadowsphere,
we two abide the overlook'd time of the watch.

-- make this cherish'd feast last
-- but until the new dawn ascendeth.

be still - harken the lure of night!
bale in each its damndest shadow,
cloth me in night, ne'er fell rue,
in its face, behold! naught save grue.

pray, ne'er come hither daylight! -- wane to dust the wight,
velvet darkness, thee we ourselves bestow! -- misery it in velvet fright